The Critique
by DeniseV
Summary: The guys go to the movies, then play movie critics, but Starsky's a little spooked.


"Wait, wait, wait. What're ya doin'?"

"I'm sitting down. I'm having a beer. I'm relaxing after a long day at work. What're you doing?" There was nothing more I wanted to do other than sit and have a beer. Obviously Starsky had other ideas.

"Uh, Hutch. Don't ya remember? Movie?" Ugh, I forgot. I really didn't see getting up off this sofa any time soon.

"Starsk…" I knew what was coming.

"No! Hutch, come on. We haven't seen a movie in a long time. You said you'd be up for one on Friday. It's Friday, partner. Let's go."

"Starsk…" I was beginning to see a pattern developing here.

"Ya promised, Hutch. And I know ya wanna see this movie. Jeez, you're the one who suggested it."

"Starsk…" He was going to keep interrupting me until he wore me down.

"Hey, look. I'm tired, too. Ya can sleep in tomorrow. I'll even drive ya home after the movie and I'll come get ya tomorrow to pick your car up. How can ya pass up a deal like that?" Yep, my partner was the ice pick and I was the block of ice.

"All right! What time is the movie?" I hoped I could stay awake through the damn thing.

Starsky was up and on the way to his door. On the way, he patted my leg a couple of times and said, "Let's go, let's go. Show's at 7:30, it's 6:45 now, we got just enough time to get there to get a decent seat and popcorn and stuff."

Yeah, about that 'and stuff.' Going to the movies with my partner is an event not for the weak. It was always best to go to the movies with Starsky on an empty stomach.

We arrived at the theatre, paid for our tickets and proceeded to the concession stand. Here we go.

"What can I get ya?" There was a nice, sweet, innocent-looking teenager at the concession stand. She had no idea. Poor girl.

"Hiya, sweetheart. I'll have a medium popcorn, lots of butter. A medium root beer. A hot dog with mustard, ketchup and relish. Hey, ya got chile?" The girl just stared at him. Good for her.

"Never mind the chile." Starsky said. "And I'll have Raisinets and M&M's, Peanut."

"Starsky, that is disgusting. Wouldn't you rather go get a quick bite to eat after the movie?"

"We can do that, too."

The movie was great, I didn't fall asleep, and Starsky really wanted to get something to eat after. There was a small sidewalk café just down from the movie theatre, and it was a nice night, so we took a seat outside. We each ordered a sandwich and soup and a beer and I thought we'd start talking about the movie. Starsky always liked to discuss the movies we saw. He was a huge movie buff, not just horror movies, westerns and Bogie films. If he'd had the right training, I could have seen him becoming a movie critic. He seemed a little subdued after this movie, though.

"I really can picture L.A. like that in the 21st century. I think they did a real good job portraying the way a cop might work in the future." I was trying to get my partner started on his critique.

"Yeah, Harrison Ford was believable as the cop. I liked him a lot." Hmm. My partner was deep in thought. I'm sure he had more to say than that.

"Hutch, do ya really think Deckard was a replicant?"

We saw 'Blade Runner' and it was a movie we could both relate to, maybe a little too much. It didn't matter whether the bad guys were real people or 'replicants' like in the movie. Cops have a tough job now and will in the future.

"Is it a problem if he was?" I asked.

"Well, no, not really. I think a lot of people who needed a hero, a good guy to cheer on in the movie, may come away a little, I don't know, they may not feel sure that they should have been rooting for him."

"You think people might feel conflicted about rooting for a replicant? Why do you think that?" I could see this was bothering him.

"I don't think they should feel bad, because there can be good replicants. And if Deckard is one, then that proves that there can be. I don't know. I think maybe it mighta been better for the audience if he hadn't been. It's such a violent world, and this movie only envisions it gettin' worse. It would be nice if people didn't have to feel conflicted about rooting for the cop."

"Yeah, that's true. But it was still a good movie. It was a great looking movie, wasn't it?"

"Yeah. Do ya think it'll really look like that?" I loved this part of going to the movies with Starsky. He was so into discussing the film. It was a side of my partner I wish more people had a chance to see.

"I don't know. Maybe the 22nd century. I don't know about the 21st. We won't be alive to see it anyway."

"Yeah, but it's neat to see the possibilities."

We sat and finished our beers. Starsky visibly shivered, but it was still nice out. Something was still bothering him. "What's the matter?"

"Hm? Oh, nothin'." He was watching his glass as he swirled the last bit of foam around the bottom of it.

"Come on. Something's bothering you. Is it something else about the movie?"

"Yeah. No. Well, yeah, but I'm not gonna tell you. You'll think it's stupid."

"No I won't. Just tell me." He wasn't going to tell me.

"Nah. Never mind." No, this was not the way we were going to end the evening. I touched his arm, and he looked up finally.

"Please tell me what it is? We can talk about anything, you know that." He kept steady eye contact with me, feeling, knowing that I wouldn't let him down.

"Okay. Um, did, uh, did Zhora remind you of anyone?" Zhora, who was Zhora?

"Who is Zhora?"

"Hutch." He said, exasperated. "You know, Zhora, the female replicant that Harrison Ford killed? Did she remind you of anyone?" I was trying to picture her in my mind. Oh yeah. Athletic, attractive. Who played her? Oh, Joanna Cassidy. Uh oh. Monique Travers. Shit. Yeah, Monique Travers definitely resembled Zhora.

Monique was someone who, at first, we thought was the victim of a stalker. Actually, it was the men she was dating who were the actual victims, several of them ending up dead when this "stalker" stormed in on Monique and her date and ended up killing the guys. We weren't getting anywhere, so Starsky went undercover as one of Monique's dates. She ended up drugging him and could easily have killed him, too, if I hadn't shown up just in time. She was dressed in a man's suit. It turns out she had a split personality, and that personality was doing all the killing.

"Yeah, buddy, she did. You're thinking of Monique Travers, aren't you?" He looked disturbed, and just a little scared.

"Yeah. I mean, I know she's not, and I know Monique is in a mental hospital. I can't seem to stop thinking about her." He shivered again.

"Tell ya what. Let's get going. I'm beat. You've got to be tired, even if it was just from the exertion of eating all that food tonight."

"Very funny." My partner smirked, a sign that he was putting Monique behind him for tonight.

"Thanks. Let's go back to your place. I'll sleep on the sofa. And that way, you won't have to come all the way out to Venice just so I can get my car."

"You sure?" Starsky looked relieved for the suggestion. And I'm pretty sure it had nothing to do with saving him time tomorrow.

"Sure I'm sure."

"Okay, partner. It's a deal." He slapped my back and we headed to the parking lot.

Going to the movies with my partner just got a lot more complicated. Now, no matter what movie we picked, I was going to have to make sure that Joanna Cassidy was NOT in it!

The End


End file.
